Get Your Armor
by lil7miss7sarcastic
Summary: Meet Caroline Forbes- typical suburban housewife by day, super spy by night. AU/AH Klaroline.


**So I really don't know where this came from but I hope you guys like it. I have a feeling there's something off with the tenses, if so I apologise since I don't have a beta.**

* * *

Caroline hums to herself as she pulls on her oven mitts and takes the roast out of the oven, sprinkling thyme over it. She gives it an approved sniff and sets the finishing touches to the dining table, taking a step back to sweep a critical eye over the perfumed candles, glasses of wine and the expensive cutlery she only took out when her husband's bosses came over. Satisfied with the arrangement, she glances at the clock and fixes her hair in the mirror in the hall. Right on time, Caroline hears the squeal of tires in the driveway and opens the door, wiping her hands on her flowery apron.

A kiss on the cheek, the clink of keys on the side table, the thump of the briefcase outside the coat closet-

"Don't leave it there! It always gets in the way"

"I'll pick it up later"

-and her husband's already on his way to the den when Caroline says, "Hey, aren't you forgetting something?"

Tyler turns, warm brown eyes meeting her blue ones in confusion. It's then that he notices the dim lights, set table and the romantic music playing on the stereo. Realisation dawns on his boyish, unlined face.

"Oh Care, the anniversary! Shit I completely forgot! I've been swamped with work throughout the week."

"Tyler-"

"I'm so sorry, Care. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, promise. I'll take you out to that fancy Italian restaurant."

Caroline sighs. "It's okay. Now come, dinner's getting cold."

Tyler grins sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. "Uh I already ate outside. If I knew you had..." He steals away under his wife's steely gaze and pursed lips and soon she can hear the muted sounds of the evening's football highlights.

At that time, Caroline wants nothing more than to swipe all the crockery to the floor and dump the contents of the gravy boat on Tyler's head, but she makes herself take a deep breath and pack everything away into microwaveable containers, her own appetite thrown out the window. Then she goes upstairs, abandoning Tyler to the delights of television, and turns into her pastel-shaded bedroom to get ready for the night. Her phone buzzes as she's brushing out the tangles in her hair. The message, from an unknown number, simply reads-

_The Mad Monk has drowned in Budapest._

Caroline Forbes smiles for the first time in the day.

* * *

"Are you serious, he forgot?" asks Katherine, deftly flipping through covert photographs in a white file.

"Yeah, said he had _work_." Caroline rolls her eyes as she memorises her identity for the night. "Seriously, Barbara M. Jones?"

Katherine shrugs. "That's Alaric for you. So," she continues, still bent on talking about Tyler, "you just left him sleeping then?"

"Snoring, more like."

"I swear you have the best cover ever. Who would suspect a sweet innocent housewife like you?"

Caroline smiles and slaps the air casually. It's true, no one looks twice at the pretty suburban wife of Tyler Lockwood, not even the man himself. She might have loved him in the beginning, but all the romance had fizzled out soon after the honeymoon. Her nighttime job, so to speak, provides all the passion and excitement that's lacking in her marriage and personal life. Caroline can't ask for more.

"Well, it's my turn to suit up now. You play the distraction tonight."

"Joy," Caroline replies, not altogether unhappily. Their client coveted the infamous Noor-e-Jehan diamond, which was going to be displayed tonight, and so Alaric has Katherine work on disabling the electronic security and swapping the gemstone with a fake while Caroline's job is to mingle with the guests in the ballroom, picking out the hired guns from the idle rich and hindering their job of protecting the diamond.

Katherine smirks as she zips up her tight black catsuit and hands her friend and partner diamond studs that function as earpieces, and a garment bag containing her 'costume' for the night. Caroline raises an approving brow at the slinky black gown with a daring thigh high slit and laughs, imagining the look on Tyler's face if he ever sees her in something like this.

* * *

Caroline is having a good time, indulging in meaningless persiflage with the rich and the beautiful while idly caressing an untouched flute of champagne in one hand. She'd already sussed out three security men and laced their drinks with a chemical (courtesy Jeremy) that would render them groggy and careless. She's just been staring at the luminous brilliance that is the diamond behind the glass case, when she feels a presence next to her. She turns to see a man in an expensive suit with dirty blonde hair appraising her closely.

"The Noor-e-Jehan," he says in a genuine-sounding British accent, "it literally means Light of the World, named after Jehangir's wife, whose son Shah Jahan-"

"Built the Taj Mahal in the memory of his wife, I know my history."

"I'm impressed, love. I too make it a point to keep myself informed about beautiful things." he flashes her a charming grin, dimples and all. Caroline gets the distinct impression that he doesn't exactly mean the diamond, and scoffs at the blatant flirtation.

"Klaus," he says after a pause, extending a hand. Something tells her that that is his real name, so she decides to reciprocate the gesture.

"Caroline." His hand is warm and his fingers linger on her pulse point.

Soft music fills the air and Klaus extends his hand again. "How about a dance, Caroline? Come on," he adds, "I won't bite." Maybe it's the way he says it or the wolfish grin on his face, but Caroline is filled with sudden apprehension. She suspects that he's one of the men she's supposed to be looking for, or THE man, judging by the looks those three men she'd identified earlier are giving him. And judging by the look _he_ is giving her, she's pretty sure he knows who she is.

"No thank you," she says lightly, "I've just spotted someone I simply HAVE to meet." Before he can say anything, she sweeps away to the other end of the room and purposefully includes herself in a conversation between people she doesn't know. Amidst an impassioned discussion on the Ukraine situation, Caroline keeps a discreet eye on Klaus. Her suspicions are confirmed when she spots him walking past one of the men, whispering something in his ear as he leans in to take a drink from a passing waiter and walking away as if nothing has happened. The movement is so subtle and natural that no one would have noticed if they hadn't been specifically looking for something of that sort. He seems to be the appointed head, muses Caroline and relays the same to Katherine through her diamond studs.

"You said he'd been flirting with you? Keep up the charade."

"How much more time are you going to take?" She laughs at a borderline racist joke cracked by a business tycoon.

"I'm almost done. In a couple of minutes, the diamond is going to be brought inside for storage and that's when I'll make the switch."

True enough, in a few minutes she watches the Noor-e-Jehan being taken inside, and from what she can make out of the corner of her eye, Klaus's gaze is not on the priceless gemstone but on her. Excusing herself from the group, Caroline tips the contents of her glass into a potted plant (it's probably plastic anyway) and makes her way to the balcony. She knows he will follow.

Since it's a small side balcony with a few lonely-looking shrubs, and not the grand one with the intricte wrought iron work, there's no one around. Caroline rests her elbows on the railing and says, by way of a greeting, "Just needed a little fresh air."

Klaus, standing beside her, nods. "I find fresh air very helpful when I have something on my mind."

She turns and gives him a fake smile. "Well I don't have anything on my mind. I'm just here to enjoy."

He laughs, and for a moment Caroline forgets why she's here. "Really?" he whispers, inching closer so that she's forced to turn and face him, "look at all those shallow, vapid, insipid people. Do you really enjoy yourself amongst them? I highly doubt someone like _you_ belongs with them."

She bristles despite herself. "What do you mean someone like _me_? You don't even know me."

Klaus gives her an enigmatic smile compelling her to roll her eyes. "Look I don't know whether this handsome, mysterious, brooding thing you've got going on is some new way of flirting, because it sucks," she tells him, momentarily transported to the bitchy Queen Bee Caroline of Mystic Falls High.

"So you think I'm handsome?" She can't help it, she laughs with him.

And that is the moment Caroline decides it's a good time to kiss him. In her defence, Katherine had just buzzed in her ear that she's making the switch and that she needs her to occupy Klaus in whatever way she can, and Caroline can't think of anything else in this charming, annoyingly romantic, rose-scented air.

What she didn't bargain for was for things to escalate so quickly. One moment she's taken him by surprise by crashing her lips onto his, and the next his hands are tight on her hips and his tongue is expertly duelling with hers.

She takes the opportunity to press herself even closer to him and run her hands across his neck, shoulders and back in search for any hidden wires. She's rewarded with one near the waistband of his pants and deftly disconnects it while he kisses her neck. Klaus growls and backs her up against the railing, forcing her to hold on to his shoulders for balance and wrap a leg around him. With one hand supporting the back of her neck and the other trailing up the exposed leg hooked around his waist, Klaus kisses her again.

Caroline belatedly realises that he's found her leg holster and has unstrapped the sleek gun concealed there, so she unwraps her leg and nips him on the bottom lip a little hard. In response he flips her so that her back's facing him. She feels one of her gown straps sliding down and Klaus searching for a comms wire like she did with him, not with his hand but with his lips...

Katherine, with impeccable timing as always, chooses that moment to screech in her ear that _she's done it!_ and it's like a fog has lifted. Turning, she pushes him away and says, "Sorry, I have to go." Barely sparing a glance at his confused expression and redder-than-usual lips, Caroline gathers her thigh holster, gun and the rest of her composure.

"What-"

But she's already disappeared.

* * *

A silent figure steals into the room, spares a glance at the man sleeping on the bed, and quietly tiptoes into the dressing room. Caroline scrutinises her reflection in the mirror for any traces of makeup and satisfied, changes into the baby blue night gown she'd been wearing earlier.

It is only then that she opens a little drawer and slips on a plain gold band onto her finger. Caroline stares a moment at her wedding ring glinting in the fluorescent light, then switches off the bulb and silently climbs into bed besides her snoring husband, oblivious to the world.

* * *

I like to think that Caroline kept her surname as a means to retain some individuality in her marriage.

Please review and tell me what you think.

Tbc?

- S


End file.
